


radiant as the sun

by silveryyy



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Dangan Ronpa Spoilers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Post-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), kyoko isn't dead makoto just doesn't know she's alive, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23820100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveryyy/pseuds/silveryyy
Summary: He remembers the screams that echoed in his ears like silent thunder everywhere he went as his classmates were brutally executed, the haunting laughs of the sadistic bear that he so hated. He remembers his own terror as he sat in a classroom, seconds away from his death, how fright itself seemed like it was strangling and suffocating him as dread pumped in his veins.There’s nothing he can do, or would do, to forget all this. In his ears, the ghosts of the dead scream and the silent is so painfully throttling that Makoto feels like he’s about to die, again, killed by the plague of quietness that seems to consume him whole.-after the final killing game, makoto returns to hope's peak academy.
Relationships: Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	radiant as the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celestial_nova](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestial_nova/gifts).



> this takes place between after class 77-B leaves for jabberwock island, and makoto realizing kyoko isn't dead? idk i can't characterize even if my life depended on it so uh apologies if things are weird also half the scenes are stolen from canon so, uh, i don't own the scenes that are written in italics!!! i just. wrote canon into words. that's, like, all. 
> 
> ALSO I WAS MEANT TO POST THIS LIKE 4 DAYS AGO I'M SO SORRY MY PARENTS CONFISCATED MY COMPUTER AND I COULDN'T POST I'M SORRY NOVA :///// happy birthday, regardless!!! thank you for always being super supportive and amazing you're suh a great friend and mom uwu ily!!! i'm sorry this is late :/ and it's not, like, anywhere near good but,,, i tried?? idk i hope you like ittt

_"The power of the words you believed became everyone's hope, right? It became my hope. Have confidence in yourself. Isn't that little bit of optimism what's great about you? Hope is infectious. If your power isn't enough, we're here for you. Everyone is behind you."_

_Kyoko’s hand is cold, and the scars are rough upon Makoto’s skin, but Makoto feels a warmth spread across his entire body, flow through his veins, and he stares, transfixed, at the person he trusts most in the world. It feels so comforting, and he doesn’t think anything could beat the reassurance and encouragement it gave him, doesn’t think anything else could have possibly fought off the doubt he’d felt before Kyoko had opened her mouth._

_Hina and Ryota watch them, the former wearing a smile on her face, and Makoto can’t help but let soft coral dust his face. He blinks- he definitely wasn’t expecting Kyoko to tell him that. He feels touched- happy, almost elated, that she trusts him enough, that he has her with him. He can’t find words to describe how relieved he feels, to finally have her here with him after three time limits and so, so many deaths- Hina is great and all, but Kyoko… he trusts her the most, is closest to her, and he’s glad that they’re finally reunited, him and Hina with Kyoko and Ryota._

_He doesn’t know what to say in response to all that she’s given him- her words are so much more than just words, and her gestures are so much more than gestures. They recharge his confidence, and make him feel so, so much better, and he can’t be more grateful for her. He knows she’s self conscious about her hands, and only shows them to people she trusts, and he feels so, so honoured that she trusts him so much as to openly take his hand with her bare, scarred yet beautiful in Makoto’s eyes, hands in front of other people._

_“Yeah,” he chokes out, smiling as he lets his fingers close around his best friend’s, and Hina’s eyes have a knowing look in them as he blushes again. Kyoko looks taken aback for a second, but the corners of her mouth upturn slightly too, letting a beautiful smile on her face, and even though they’re in a killing game again and they’re not safe, he feels at peace._

.

Makoto stands before the large iron gates he knows so, so well.

He sees them every night, has the exact shade of charcoal stained sapphire they are painted in seared on the back of his eyelids, and they haunt him every night. All his dreams start at these gates- these gates he had come to fear.

Five years ago, he stood before these gates for the first time, trembling with nervousness and excitement for his first year at Hope’s Peak academy, the school he’d looked up to for so long. Half a decade ago, he was so, so blissfully unaware of the tragedy that has since befallen him, unaware of the hardships and pain he’d had to suffer through, unaware of all the friends, family he would lose.

But he thinks he wouldn’t trade any of it, not right now, at least. Sure, he misses his friends- he misses Sayaka’s teasing smile, her soft, light laugh of tintinnabulations that Makoto had once loved, Leon’s carefree, lighthearted, the shine in Chihiro’s eyes as the shy girl perks up when the topic falls to programming, Mondo’s red-hot flame of passion, Taka’s strict yet endearing reprimandings, Hifumi’s rambles about anime and manga, Celeste’s polite mannerisms, Sakura’s wise and comforting words, Mukuro’s quiet smile- one that he barely remembered, from before the killing game, but one that he cherished- are all ingrained into his mind, and every night, he sees them all again. He misses them all so, so much. Of the sixteen- _sixteen!-_ classmates he had five years ago, only six survived the initial killing game, and now- only five remain standing.

But despite all that- he’s grown so much from this trial. The world has grown as well, and the people now _know_ what real tragedy feels like, know where to find hope even in the darkest of times. _He_ learnt where to find hope, too- something he might never have learnt if not for this ordeal. It took so much away from him, but at the same time, it gave him so much. Sometimes he wonders what would have happened if Junko were only ever the sweet, clever girl he thought he knew back when he was seventeen and innocent and naive, and the world was ever so peaceful the entire time. Would he have grown to be the person he is now? Would he be _happier_ , in a world with his friends still alive and smiling like they are eternally smiling in his memory?

He definitely wasn’t expecting this when he accepted the offer to go to Hope’s Peak, definitely wasn’t expecting to have _two whole years of his memory wiped_ , then ushered into two killing games, witness the almost-destruction of the world and lost ninety percent of his friends that he didn’t even remember making until much later. Sometimes new memories of the time he lost resurfaces, almost like a dream, or a story he’s reading, a movie he’s watching, and he wonders, if time rewound back to his first year at Hope’s Peak right now, would he be able to save everyone? Would he be able to protect everyone?

He forces the thoughts out of his head. Negativity isn’t going to get him anywhere- the present is good enough, and things will get better, after all.

He takes in a deep breath- he hasn’t been here since the first killing game, since he lost most of his friends. The others have been back- Hina and Hiro and Byakuya and Toko and _Kyoko_ , they’ve come back before, but Makoto didn’t go with them- he’d scheduled a meeting with his sister for the first time in forever, and let the others go without him. 

That doesn’t matter, though. He’s here now. Even if he’s alone, he’s still here, with the memories of his classmates by his side.

.

He walks the hallways of the school alone.

They’re kind of _creepy_ , all dimly lit and almost glowing in various colours- the one he’s in right now happens to be pink- he flinches and almost shudders at the thought of the bright, haunting pink that stains every bit of his memories- but he remembers blue ones, purple ones, even bright green ones. The checkered ground, once gleaming in the artificial light, is now coated almost completely with dust. 

Even after three whole years, he still vividly remembers the map of the place, remembers every single inch of the premises. How could he _not_? After all, he endured a _sadistic killing game_ here, was stuck here for over a year with no way out. 

He remembers every single detail- the dorms, the shower rooms (with the scent of Sayaka’s blood choking him as the obnoxious rosy colour was smeared like a child’s grubby fingers sliding a work of art over the cold stone walls), the locker rooms (with the liquid soaking deep into the carpets, and still dripping down Chihiro’s hung petite body and legs like the life that had been mercilessly drained out of her), the art room storage (with the stench of artificial paint fusing with the metal tang of the smell of blood emitting from the bodies lying on the ground, covered in what seemed like a gruesome pour of inky watercolour), the recreational room (with powder and glass shards sprinkled all over, sharp and harsh fragments scattering across the ground ever so contrasting to Sakura’s dying smile). 

He remembers the screams that echoed in his ears like silent thunder everywhere he went as his classmates were brutally executed, the haunting laughs of the sadistic bear that he so hated. He remembers his own terror as he sat in a classroom, seconds away from his death, how fright itself seemed like it was strangling and suffocating him as dread pumped in his veins.

There’s nothing he can do, or would do, to forget all this. In his ears, the ghosts of the dead scream and the silent is so painfully throttling that Makoto feels like he’s about to die, again, killed by the plague of quietness that seems to consume him whole.

He stops in front of a pair of burnt sienna coloured doors- doors that has haunted him for three whole years. Next to them is the small off-white plague, marking it as _Classroom 1-A_ , and a chill goes down Makoto’s spine. He reaches a hand up to stroke it, and almost flinches at the cool marble surface beyond the sheen of grey powder settled on it.

He shivers, then inhales. It’s no good to stall here- he has to get over it.

He pushes open the door to the place where it all began.

.

_“So you haven’t given up, then.”_

_Makoto looks up at the girl who’d dropped into the garbage chute to save him and bring him food and drink. She’s smiling slightly, and Makoto feels his cheek redden a little. “Of course not!” he exclaims._

_“After all, the fact that I can keep going forward is about all i’m good at…”_

_It’s true- after all, everyone in this school was accepted because of their talents, but Makoto? He got in via the lottery. Out of everyone, he’s probably the most useless, the most invaluable. But looking at Kyoko’s amused expression, the rare smile that settles on her face, he feels like for once, he isn’t talentless._

_“Well, that’s not such a bad thing to be good at,” she says, and Makoto smiles too, but he lets it fade pretty quickly._

_“But, Kyoko… why’d you come to save me?”_

_She ponders for a while, hesitating as she plays with her gloves. “To pay a debt,” she finally replies. “Or- no, to atone.”_

_“Atone…?” Makoto echoes. Of course, he knows what she’s referring to- the fact that he covered for her and was voted guilty. But to him, it’s not something she needs to atone for! She had to have a purpose for lying, and Makoto understands, whatever the purpose was._

_“During the trial, even though you knew I was lying, you didn’t say anything,” Kyoko says. She’s frowning a little, and her eyes avoid Makoto’s. “But even though I knew you knew about it, I did nothing to help you. I… abandoned you.”_

_“Don’t say that!” Makoto stares at her wide-eyed, the words uncontrollably bursting out of his mouth. “You didn’t abandon me!”_

_Kyoko shakes her head, smiling bitterly, and Makoto is tempted to rush over and grab her hands and reassure her, but he holds back. Kyoko isn’t a touchy person, after all. “No, that’s exactly what I did. I abandoned you in order to save my own life. You were trying to save me, and I, I couldn’t bring myself to do the same for you.”_

_Her tone is regretful, and Makoto is tempted to tell her she shouldn’t be. After all, it’s already over, and they have to move forward from what’s already happened, right?_

_The fact that Kyoko came for him, he thinks, is wonderful enough, and he couldn’t be more grateful for her. He trusted- trusts- her, after all- trusted her to figure out the truth, trusted her with his whole life. He was willing to give his life for her survival, and now, he can confidently say, he’d do it again. And she’s already risked her life in coming down, no?_

_He only wishes he has the courage to say it out loud._

_._

He reaches the bottom of the ladder, and looks around the garbage chute.

He’d _almost died_ here. No- he _would’ve_ died here, if not for Kyoko being the lifesaver she was, swooping in like his guardian angel to bring him energy when he most needed it, to keep him company when he was lonely.

He remembers the state he was in, too weak to even move at all or do anything but _sleep_ , not even having the energy to move forward like he usually does, it was Kyoko, Kyoko who saved him, _Kyoko who always, always saves him_.

He still remembers the taste of the bread that she’d given him- probably the best bredd he’d ever tasted, still fresh and soft and chewy despite it having been dropped into a garbage chute along with his best friend. Maybe it was because he’d been hungry for _days_ before it, but he thinks it was more because of the fact that it was Kyoko, Kyoko who saved him and brought him the food, Kyoko who had handed him the food and the bottle of water.

He remembers how she’d told him everything here- how she’d finally remembered her father, why she came to Hope’s Peak, her Ultimate title- _Ultimate Detective._ How fitting- everything, after being an amnesiac for so long. Oh, what he would give to bring Kyoko back from the dead, what he would pay so he could have that conversation with her all over again.

He didn’t even get to say _goodbye_ to his best friend, the person he loves so, so much,

And even before she died, she was _encouraging_ him, she wanted him to live his life looking forward with hope at the expense of her own. It isn’t _fair._

_“No matter what happens, don't give up on hope. I shall always be by your side.”_

He would never, ever forget that sentence, never forget the last words she uttered to him. He laughs a little- even in death, Kyoko is influencing him, and he knows- he knows with everything in him, that without Kyoko, he would be _dead_. He would be such a different person without Kyoko by his side to help him through it all, and he’s eternally grateful.

He wishes, though, that she could have _said_ something about it- told him that she was going to die. But then- he would have tried to stop it, wouldn’t he? He would have tried to find a way for her to live, and he’s not above giving himself for her. He’s done it once before, after all- she must have been scared he would do it again. She died, ultimately, for _him._

And he misses her, he misses her every single second of the day. In his memory, she smiles, still very much alive, and it hurts, knowing he could have prevented it, and he _didn’t_. But he knows- he knows Kyoko would want him to move forward, no matter anything, and so he tried- is trying his best.

 _"If Kirigiri had turned into Despair... and betrayed everyone... If I had to kill her to stop her... No matter what had happened, I'd still have been glad to have met her."_ he remembers the determination with which he’d said that, the pain in Munakata’s eyes as he flinches at his words. He’d only had the courage to say that because of _Kyoko_ , because her hope added to his and made him stronger. He’s alive- they’re all _alive_ \- because of Kyoko.

One life in exchange for that of a thousands. It seems so fair, such a great deal, or a trade, but human lives shouldn’t be used like money, for a gamble, in Makoto’s opinion, and it doesn’t change the fact that he misses her terribly.

He sighs. Staying around here in the garbage chute won’t change anything. He wouldn’t be able to save Kyoko by staring at mounds of rubbish. Kyoko would have wanted him to move on from her, to live a life full of hope. She wanted to be his hope, to push him forward in life, and Makoto knows he should honour her wish.

He turns, grabbing onto the rungs of the ladder he’d last climbed up with Kyoko, and hauls himself up the first step. And when he twists his head back to look behind him at the place one last time...

He can almost see her there, smiling at him.

.

He hops onto his bike and cycles to the seaside after he emerges from the dark depths of the past he has, buried deep in his school.

He’s always loved the seaside- it’s silent, but not suffocating- it brings a soothing calmness as the soft sea breeze moves to ruffle his hair, twirling around his fingers as he puts his hands on the rails barring him from the murky depths of the starless abyss that is death. It almost seems to pick his fingers up as it gently encircles his wrists and holds them lightly, ever so encouraging and comforting after he’d relived so much.

Fluffy cotton swabs dab at the sky with the palest of pinks and softest of yellows, and light dashes of mauve and tangerine and periwinkle bleeds into the edges of the neverending canvas that spreads and spills over them like a shelter from beyond. The gentle summer wind coats the surface of the sea as it sends tiny ripples rippling across the sea, and it reflects the light that gorgeous watercolour blending of the sky above. The sun, with its almost blinding smiles, sends strokes of bright ivory streaking across the surface, attempting to reach out its hand to him.

If he thinks hard enough, he can imagine the islands far, far away, sitting there on the horizon with a ship filled with laughter and joy and relief at finally being reunited parked at its docks- the paradise-like islands once overflowing with things people could only dream of living with, now carrying such trauma and horrifying memories for the eighteen upperclassmen of his living there. They’d turned up just in time to save the world from despair, and had even given up their freedom to help the world rebuild, subjected themselves to confinement and worldwide hatred, in the name of _hope_. Makoto can’t feel more grateful for them, but even so- the thought sends feelings of longing across his body. When he’d entered the simulation to help the Remnants of Despair, _Kyoko_ was with him, beside him and supporting him unconditionally, and he knows that she’s still by his side, in spirit, but it isn’t the _same_.

Nevertheless, he can’t dwell on it now, there’s so much he needs to do, and the world still needs so much rebuilding that he has to help out with. He’s the Ultimate Hope- as Kyoko said, he needs to spread that hope to everyone out there struggling right now, especially considering how everything has only just begun to be restored.

“You still haven’t given up, then,” a voice sounds from behind him, and Makoto freezes for a second, letting shock paralyze him. He can’t think- can’t process anything, because all that’s running through his mind is that this _can’t be happening_ , it can’t be possible, he’s hallucinating-

 _What- how-_ he can’t be awake, this has to be a dream, a dream too good to be true, or only a figment of his imagination. It’s _impossible_! Because- because the owner of that voice is-

“Of course not!” he responds anyway, letting himself indulge in his imagination, even if it’s only for a short while. It’s tough, after all, to stay in harsh reality for so long. “Didn’t you tell me not to stop believing in hope?” he lets himself laugh a little, even as his eyes start brimming with tears, and he’s so tempted to turn around and throw himself at the figure. Unfortunately, he knows it’s not real, and doing that would undoubtedly end his vision.

“So I did,” Makoto can hear a smile in the person’s voice. “I’m glad you did.”

“Why are you here?” Makoto blurts. “How are you here? Am I imagining this?” he turns around to take in the figure before him. Everything about her, down to the last detail, is _just like the person he remembers_ , and he chokes back a sob as he sees the flowing lavender hair he loves so much, tied up into the ponytail he remembered so well, and she’s still dressed in her Future Foundation uniform, like she was the last time he saw her, lying so still and motionless upon the ground. The aromatic scent of the sweet floral smell she always smelled like waft towards him, and it blends in with the salted tang in the air, fusing together. He can’t help but stare wide-eyed as his eyes glisten with unshed tears in the dim light of sunset, can’t help but let the surprise and shock and utter happiness show in his viridescent eyes.

She smiles. “You’re not hallucinating.” She walks closer, and the familiar light smell envelopes him as he welcomes it. He watches as she smoothly pulls her gloves- the same midnight coloured velvet ones he knows so well- off her slender fingers, exposing the burn scars woven over her skin that Makoto had grown to adore and be so fond of. 

Her hand reaches for Makoto’s and he almost shudders at how cold her hands are, but it fits so well in his, and Makoto feels a rush of joy flow through him: it’s _her, she’s alive_ , and she’s still _here with him._ He can’t hold it in anymore and he cries, lets the tears run freely down his cheeks, and he grabs her hands and holds them, savouring the touch. “How?” he asks weakly.

"Kimura-san developed a drug to slow the effects of the poison," she responds, but she's also smiling, and Makoto is tempted to hug her and hold on tight for just a moment, but he resists the temptation. "Mikan revived me awhile back, before she left. I'm sorry I didn't find you earlier."

"It's alright!" Makoto bursts out as he can't help but smile through his tears. "You're here now, and that's enough." He feels the elation zoom through his bones- he doesn't think he's ever felt so happy before. 

She looks taken aback, but she smiles nonetheless, and it's a small smile, but it's as radiant as the sun, and Makoto wishes he could freeze this moment for eternity, with the wind in their hair and winding around them gently, and the warm golden rays of the sun shrouding them, and the soothing sound of the sea waves batting at the rails, but most importantly, with her beautiful smile so gorgeous that to him, it could light up the entire world.

Maybe they had to go through a world of hardships to get here, together, but to Makoto, he wouldn't give anything for it- for this peace and calm they have now. He wouldn't exchange it for the world.

"Welcome back, Kyoko," he whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i don't have much to say except this was hard to write because i seriously need to get to know THH better? the characterizations are probably wrong and the balance is kinda wrong and everything and i could have done much better i'm sorry i had a busy week but i love naegiri lol it's amazing!!!! definitely didn't do it justice but hey, i can always write more naegiri later!
> 
> anyways,,,, happy belated birthday nova i don't even know how many times i've repeated that but,,,, i'm not about to launch into a speech on how amazing you are because i've already done that in pms but you are amazing thank you so much for everything!!!!
> 
> and everyone else... thank you for reading and putting up with my terrible things ;-; i love you all thank you sm stay safe!!!!


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